


Hate Your Headaches

by ThatCrazyNerdCreature



Series: Unconditionally [Alternately Titled: In Which Various Homestuck Ships Face Problems In Their Couplehood But Find Ways Past These Obstacles] [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beware of the Fucking Plot Bunnies, Fluffy, Headaches, Inept Descriptions of Sexual Thingies, M/M, Massages, Post-EriSolSprite, Stress Relief, TW: May Contain Weird Headcanons, Unconditionally, quadrant flipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCrazyNerdCreature/pseuds/ThatCrazyNerdCreature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You could list the things you hate about him, books and books of each particular detail and thing about him that set you off.</p><p>You could do the same for things you love about him. </p><p>At the top of the first list is his <i> god damn <strong> head aches. <strong> <i></i></strong></strong></i></p><p>You remember them from your time as one being, and you really wish he didn't have to suffer like that, except at your hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate Your Headaches

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kindling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/569791) by [InkSkratches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSkratches/pseuds/InkSkratches). 



_Your name is **ERIDAN AMPORA** and you really **FUCKING HATE** your boyfriend/quadrantmate **SOLLUX CAPTOR** 's stupid **PSIONIC-INDUCED HEADACHES.**_

You vaguely remember the first headache you experienced with him. A dull throbbing pain building, stretching from the depths of your weird-ass brain and entangling itself in the rest of your head. You felt every damn moment of it, could feel the beast in your head ripping its way into your being and digging in its heels. 

You were lucky he was able to support your shared soul by himself after your half blacked out. 

Now, as you watch him fight them, it seems hard to believe he is battling that same horrifying monster. You watch his adult face every day for the signs you know are there, a slight flinch at the light, at the distant thrum of the washing machine. He masks his reactions well, as if his face is but a seeing block of porcelain. 

His mask is delicate though, just as is porcelain. One poke or smack and it shatters, showing your frail man for who he really is. 

_When not affected by his migraines, he's rough, like harsh concrete. He bites and claws, bruising and tearing you, until you fight back, pounding and ripping at his too-hot lowblood flesh. You both curse each other under your breath, nipping and licking at your beloathed. He scrambles for a handhold on your back, digging his sharp golden claws into your horns as you shift deeper inside him. The room spins and churns around you in a bright thunderclap of red and blue when you come to your respective finishes, glaring at the mess you've each made._

When you see that downward twitch at the corner of his mouth, or the tiny crease between his fucked up eyes, you know what it is. You walk over to his desk where he types up his new codes, and press the heels of your hands firmly to his temples. 

The slight growl you normally recieve is nothing like his hate-filled lust-driven one. It seems to be more of a _whine_ , something you want gone. 

_You pity him so much during these headaches, pressing the lightest and sweetest kiss to the base of his skull as possible. It's amazing how much tension and stress you can feel leave him from this._

You rub your splayed fingers across his forehead in time to the short bursts of red emotion you feel, eliciting a pained purr from him. The heels of your hands dig into his temples, and you trail kisses up and down the back of his neck, having pulled him from his rolling spinny chair into your lap by this time.

He shows little resistance, sighing softly to show his enjoyment. You suckle at one of the nubby little bones that encase his spinal cord. His rib cage heaves, a fluttering gasp parting his lips, his eyes flicker shut. You wish you had a camera. 

Your arms hook around his waist, and your lips brush his horns. His belly is kneaded softly by manicured hands, releasing yet more coiled stress from him. You know his pleasure as the air fills with a crackling haze of azure and crimson, creating a marble glow over his pale ashen skin. Smiles dance over both pairs of lips, revealing sharks teeth from you and a slight peek at his one snaggly overbite. 

It seems times like these are when you _love him the most._


End file.
